


A Lifetime to Perfect

by BrinThePuffling



Series: Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - They Aren't Figure Skaters, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 17:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrinThePuffling/pseuds/BrinThePuffling
Summary: Yuuri dreamed of meeting his soulmate for as long as he could remember. Imagined a grand romantic fairytale. Life, he learns, is rarely like dreams.(Yuuri POV)





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the quote by Criss Jami "To say one waits a lifetime for his soulmate to come around is a paradox. People eventually get sick of waiting, take a chance on someone, and by the art of commitment become soulmates, which takes a lifetime to perfect."
> 
> I'd like to thank [this post](http://mapleleauf.tumblr.com/post/158159101429/mapleleauf-mapleleauf-mapleleauf-okay-but) for the idea of pastry chef Viktor!

First impressions are important. This has been true for as long as there has been life on earth. People tell grand romantic stories about when they first met their partner, wonderfully hilarious stories about meeting friends. This has become even truer with the appearance of soulmarks. The first words your soulmate says to you appear on your skin, pointing and pushing you towards the person (or people) who will be able to understand you best, understand you down to your core. Something undeniable tying you together. Some people have one, some have more, some don’t have any. Some are romantic, others platonic or familial, or something in-between.  Soulbonds are impossible to quantify, each person creating their own meaning, their own love with their soulmates. Each bond is as different as the people it binds.

Regardless, ordinary introductions have become a thing of the past. They have no place in a society where first impressions are of the utmost importance. When every person was walking around with some variation of “hey” “hi” “excuse me” “how can I help?” tattooed on their body, finding one’s true soulmate was a near impossible task. People have claimed that “you just know” when you meet your soulmate, even with vague greetings. Others argue that it’s wishful thinking. Still. People have taken to saying the most unique phrase they can think of upon meeting someone new.

No longer do you apologize if you bump into a stranger. Well. You do. Later. But never before saying something else first. These phrases have become automatic, before apologies and greetings. Yuuri would always remember the man who proudly proclaimed, “I ate six bees for breakfast this morning,” after crashing into him. It wasn’t true (the man reassured when he realized what he said, face red and hands waving) but Yuuri was still glad that that phrase wasn’t branded onto his body.

Mostly.

Well, maybe he would have taken that phrase over the one that ran across his wrist.

“Sorry.”

It’s like his soulmate hadn’t gotten the memo! Yuuri resented the soulmark for a long time. It was so boring, so unoriginal, so… unromantic! And in such a visible spot. Yuuri had been teased by a classmates, Takeshi Nishigori in particular, relentlessly whey they were younger for his lackluster soulmark. One day the words Takeshi was throwing were particularly harsh, causing tears to spring to young Yuuri’s eyes, and—for the first time—Yuuri’s friend, Yuuko, witnessed the bullying.

“Stop being mean to Yuuri!” she had shouted, pushing herself between Yuuri and Takeshi.

To which Takeshi automatically responded, “What’s it matter to you!” before both of them stopped in shock, perhaps realizing at the same time those words were familiar. Yuuko dragged Yuuri away and refused to associate with Takeshi for a long time. Takeshi had begun to make amends and apologies and since they all spent so much time at the ice rink anyways, somehow, they all became friends. As Yuuri got older, he began to wonder if Takeshi had bullied him not because of Yuuri’s soulmark, but because of his own in some strange self-fulfilling promise. Was it because of his soulmark that Takeshi was a bully to him or was he always destined to bully Yuuri and his soulmark just reflected that? Yuuri didn’t dwell on it for long and, ultimately, forgave Takeshi.

What Takeshi hadn’t known was that Yuuri had another soulmark. This soulmate making themself much easier to find. Across his collarbone was a line from the “The King and the Skater.” Though, Yuuri hadn’t known about the film until after he met Phichit. Up until that point, Yuuri had just assumed his soulmate was poetic, romantic, and loved skating.

Phichit was a person that decided on a phrase and used it for every first meeting. Many people thought that was best, to have a go-to phrase that takes the pressure off of first meetings. Yuuri, as well, had a go-to phrase. Though that phrase wasn’t anywhere on Phichit’s body. Rather, across Phichit’s thigh it simply said, “You’re my soulmate.” Yuuri had been so shocked to hear the words he had run over in his head and analyzed night after night repeated back to him. Or, rather, said for the first time.

Yuuri remembers tugging down his collar, revealing the words and the way Phichit’s eyes widened. When Yuuri saw the smile that split across Phichit’s face, Yuuri’s first thought was, _“Here’s a person I could fall in love with_.”

Things didn’t quite work out that way. There was no question that Yuuri and Phichit loved each other with all their hearts. Platonically. It wasn’t always such. Yuuri doubted a soul alive could meet Phichit without falling a little bit in love. But after a couple months of dating and hanging out and getting to know each other, Phichit confessed to believing they were meant to be platonic soulmates.

Yuuri didn’t get it at first. Phichit was still the same as ever. He still cuddled Yuuri on his couch, clung to his arm when they walked, they still frequently went out together, occasionally exchanged a kiss or two, and Yuuri just _couldn’t_ distinguish the difference between platonic and romantic soulmates. _Couldn’t_ figure out what was stopping Phichit from falling deeply, romantically in love with him. It hurt, too, more than Yuuri cared to admit. With two soulmates, Yuuri figured one would most likely be platonic. It’s not always the case, but Yuuri, himself, wasn’t sure he could have two romantic partners. Despite that, he had always thought Phichit would be his romantic soulmate. He had fantasized about the words on his collarbone for years, what manner those romantic words would be uttered.

“Shall we skate?”

Yuuri had pictured someone taller than him, older, prince-like, something out of a fairytale. Yuuri had even started figure skating because of the words. He imagined himself gliding beautifully across the ice, his mystery soulmate absolutely mesmerized by his performance, unable to take his eyes off of Yuuri. Yuuri would come off the ice, see his soulmate, and _know_.

He’d _know_ like every romance story ever written.

Like every love poem written since the appearance of soulmarks.

He would know instantly and his soulmate would take his hand. “Shall we skate?” he’d say as he took Yuuri back onto the ice and together they would dance. There would be no need for further words, everything they needed to say would be said through the ice.

Yuuri, over the years, gave up on that fantasy. Even for a fantasy, it was too fantastical. Real life was never so perfect. Besides, Yuuri couldn’t make time for figure skating. He threw himself into his studies, deciding to focus on achieving his dream job. He dreamed of being a vet—ever since he ended up rescuing a small puppy he found cowering in the cold.

Still.

If he had still occasionally stepped on the ice when he had the free time? That was his business. He had to be ready to skate at a moment’s notice, if he ever met his soulmate.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he met Phichit not near an ice rink, but in a university classroom. They met in a shared history course—a class Yuuri had been putting off and one Phichit decided to get out of the way first. It wasn’t the romantic encounter Yuuri had been daydreaming about. In the moment, though, there had been no disappointment. Only overwhelming happiness and love. Once Phichit confessed to preferring to keep their relationship just this side of platonic, however, Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter. He wouldn’t admit it, but, at his core, Yuuri was a romantic. He felt cheated out of a romantic soulmate and the romantic encounter he had been dreaming of as soon as he was old enough to understand soulmarks.

What could possibly be romantic about “sorry”?

Over the months, Phichit began spending more time at Yuuri’s apartment than at his own dorm. Yuuri’s hurt tapered off and his feelings settled, leaving him comfortable and happy with his relationship with Phichit. Yuuri couldn’t imagine a better friend than Phichit. He ended up suggesting they become roommates, since Phichit was over so often anyways and they found a decent two-bedroom apartment not far from the university. After all, if you couldn’t room with a soulmate, who could you room with?

Still. The whole event left Yuuri markedly uneager to meet his other soulmate. Nervous. What if “Sorry” believed them to be unsuitable romantic soulmates as well? He didn’t resent Phichit—of course he didn’t. Phichit had been right, ultimately. But it made him realize he had, perhaps, taken the idea of a soulmate’s love for granted. Worries began to fester in Yuuri’s mind that he was unlovable. _Ridiculous_ , he tried to tell himself. He had plenty of people who loved him.

 _But not the way you’ve dreamed of being loved since the second you learned about soulmarks,_ a nasty part of his brain chimed in. A new “fantasy” took over his thoughts when it came to soulmates.

It would a standard meeting. Nothing romantic, nothing extraordinary. Just a stranger Yuuri felt no connection to. Yuuri would say his standard greeting, “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” and a flash of recognition would cross his mystery soulmate’s face before settling into derision. They would sneer down at him and reply, “Sorry,” not sounding sorry at all. Then they would continue, “I couldn’t possibly fall for a soulmate like you.” And that would be that.

He was being silly. He knew he was. That was the worst part. Yuuri felt even sillier when he voiced these worries to Phichit. He hadn’t been planning on it, preferring to keep these anxieties to himself. But when Phichit plopped down on the couch next to him, arm resting across Yuuri’s shoulder, and simple stated, “Something’s been bothering you.” Yuuri couldn’t stop himself as the worries came tumbling past his lips. Phichit just listened, a comforting presence as all the negative thoughts he had been bottling up came spilling out.

Since then, Phichit would periodically share scenarios he came up with in which “sorry” would be a perfectly appropriate and romantic thing to say.

“You know, Yuuri, no one says ‘sorry’ anymore.” “Yes Phichit, I’m aware.” “No, you don’t get it. _No one_ says ‘sorry.’ So, that in of itself makes it a unique phrase!” “Still not very original…”

“Maybe your soulmate is just so stunned at how amazing you are that they forget how to speak—“ “Phichit” “—and the only thing they can say is a choked out ‘sorry.’”

“Okay, Yuuri, listen.” “Phichit. I’m done worrying about my other soulmate. It’s fine.” “No this one is great, you gotta listen. … So this soulmate of yours? Doesn’t speak. To anyone! But obviously they recognize your words, so they get to know you and you communicate other ways—“ “Phichit, this is ridiculous—“ “don’t interrupt—and fall hopelessly head-over-heels in love and when they finally speak, it’s to apologize and you live happily ever after.” “Jeez, you’ve been watching too many rom-coms.”

Life continues on in this manner, years pass, Yuuri gets his pre-vet bachelor’s degree, managing to maintain a 4.0 GPA, and begins to work towards his doctorate. He gets a job as an Animal Care Technician in the meantime. Balancing work and his bachelor’s degree had been difficult and, unsurprisingly, working towards his doctorate is even more difficult. But he’s managing. Yuuri loves working with animals and even if the job can be taxing—physically, mentally, and emotionally—he wouldn’t have chosen any other path.

Though Yuuri was no closer to finding his other soulmate, Phichit had found one of his other soulmates. Rare as it was, Phichit had three soulmarks and Yuuri wasn’t surprised in the least when Phichit told him. Selfishly, Yuuri had to admit (only to himself) he was glad he found Phichit first. Glad that _he_ was the one Phichit lived with. Not that Yuuri disliked Phichit’s other soulmate. On the contrary, he grew quite fond of them. Phichit bonded with them instantly (not that Yuuri had expected any different) and Phichit always seemed happier, lighter after hanging out with them. Sometimes the three of them went for dinner, when they all had the time, and Yuuri had to admit it was easy to have fun with the two of them. Phichit had recently disclosed he thought he was falling in love them, believing them to be a romantic soulmate and Yuuri couldn't be happier for his friend, his roommate, his soulmate.

Finding his other soulmate fell to the back of Yuuri’s mind. Worries about meeting “Sorry” were replaced with worries about his classes, the animals in his care, his exams, and things of the like. There were more pressing things to consider than maybe possibly falling in love. There would be time for love after he graduated. After he got his doctorate. Maybe he would move back home, if only for a little bit. Though his soulmark was in English, it would still be possible to meet an English speaker in Japan. Though his parents suspected, Yuuri would never admit to them that the fact both his soulmarks were in English played a big part in his motivation for choosing an American university.

Yuuri was, uncharacteristically, running late for work. He had stayed after class to get something cleared up by the professor but, it had seemed, many people had the same idea. It put Yuuri behind schedule, causing him to have to run to work. He hated running. But he hated being late more. In his haste, he wasn’t paying careful attention to his surroundings. Not until he knocked into someone, ‘causing him to stumble backwards. Once he regained his bearings he realized he crashed into a person carrying a dog. “Sorry!” the voice gasped out, tone hurried and urgent, but Yuuri wasn’t paying attention to the person, only to the bundle of fur the person was holding. “My dog…” the voice added needlessly. The dog looked in bad condition, whimpering and its fur matted with blood. “A-A car,” the panicked voice managed.

“I’m a vet!” Yuuri responded instantly, though it wasn’t entirely true it hardly mattered. “Follow me,” Yuuri gestured hastily and ran faster than he had ever ran. Luckily the veterinary hospital wasn’t far and they got there in record time. Yuuri called out for a licensed vet and brought the stranger and his dog in for emergency care. Once the dog was in the care of Dr. Celestino, Yuuri brought the stranger back out to the waiting room. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of your dog from here.” He gestured towards the front desk, “Please go talk to Adam, he’ll have some forms for you to fill out.” The stranger nodded silently, doing as told and Yuuri went back to assist Dr. Celestino.

Yuuri did all he could to help Dr. Celestino. He had been working at the veterinary hospital for about two years now and he knew how things worked. Luckily, the poodle’s injuries looked worse than they were. Though, the poodle was old, so there was always the possibility for complications. They ran through the tests, x-rays, and did bloodwork, ultimately determining there was a clean break on its left hind leg and some cuts, scrapes, and bruises. It was a closed fracture; but, the poodle would require anesthesia for the surgery and before they could proceed they would have to wait for the bloodwork to come back. Especially dealing with an older dog, they had to be careful.

“Yuuri, I need you to go explain the situation to…” Celestino paused to check the papers Adam had brought back, “Makkachin’s owner.” Yuuri nodded his understanding. As he came into the waiting room, the stranger immediately bolted up.

“Makkachin! Is she…” the stranger trailed off, swallowing nervously.

“She’s stable,” Yuuri was quick to assure and the stranger exhaled shakily. “I’m a pet technician, Yuuri Katsuki,” he introduced, offering a hand.

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor replied quickly, moving jerkily as he shook Yuuri’s hand.

“Makkachin has a closed fracture on her left hind leg. She will require surgery to set the bone. Since she’s older, it would be best to ease the healing process with some pins, possibly some screws.” Viktor nodded tightly. “Has Makkachin had anesthesia before?”

“Uhh,” Viktor ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Once, yeah, when she was a puppy. When she got spayed.”

Yuuri nodded. “We’ll wait for the bloodwork to get back before to determine if it will be safe to administer the anesthesia. In the meantime, we have given Makkachin the painkillers you specified on the form.” Yuuri hesitated, biting his lip, “There are some risks in the use of anesthesia on older dogs, if you want to sit down I will go over them with you and we can make the best decision for Makkachin.” Yuuri guided Viktor back down to the sitting area before going into the details of the procedures they were considering, the risks, the odds, and everything.

This was always one of the worst parts of the job, Yuuri privately thought. He was never very good with dealing with humans. Working with animals was so much easier. It was even worse when the person he was talking to started to cry. It was natural, of course. Dealing with the stress of a sick pet, trying to determine what was best. Crying was almost inevitable. Still, it never got easier to deal with. Viktor didn’t even seem to realize he had started to cry, Yuuri observed. There was no real change in his facial expression but when he blinked, the tears fell from his eyelashes. He seemed surprised, a hand raising to his face as he brushed away more tears. “Sorry,” Viktor apologized.

“It’s fine, you’re worried about Makkachin. It’s normal,” Yuuri replied as comfortingly as he could.

Viktor breathed in deeply before saying, “If the bloodwork comes back, uh, okay for the anesthesia then that’s best.”

Yuuri agreed and stood up. “Makkachin will need to stay for at least two days to make sure there are no complications. We will call once the surgery is finished to update you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Katsuki,” Viktor stood up as well. His voiced wavered on the words.

Yuuri was surprised at Viktor’s words and wondered if he should correct Viktor’s assumption. Ultimately, he decided it was unnecessary and bade Viktor goodbye. Once the bloodwork came back, Celestino determined it’d be okay to begin surgery. To Yuuri’s immense relief the surgery went through without any complications and he was delighted to inform Viktor Makkachin would make a full recovery. After that, any thought of Viktor was pushed from Yuuri’s mind, never one to dwell on the owners of his patients.

 

* * *

 

Four days later Yuuri was enjoying a walk on an early Saturday morning. It was good to get out of the apartment and Yuuri knew he needed some air before settling in to do his graduate work. As he walked, his eyes were pulled to a cute pastry shop, called Stammi Vicino. Every time he walked by, he had been tempted to go in. The heavenly scent of sweets found Yuuri’s nose and Yuuri couldn’t help but be drawn in.

He had always felt embarrassed about going into shops like Stammi Vicino. Yuuri worried about judgmental eyes, taking apart his appearance as he bought something as unhealthy as a slice of cheesecake. Yuuri knew it wasn’t something he should worry about, knew that likely no one would pay him a second glance. In general, being overweight wasn’t something Yuuri was self-conscious about. He ate healthily (for the most part) and his weight didn’t affect his daily life. He simply gained weight easily and didn’t live a particularly active lifestyle. It hardly mattered to him that he had the beginnings of a double chin.

It really didn’t.

And yet, he still felt uncomfortable walking into a simple bakery. _It’s not like you eat sweets all the time, just go check it out,_ he tried to reassure himself. It was useless. He decided he didn’t need to stop in there, it’d be a waste of money anyways. Yuuri walked pass Stammi Vicino, eyes glancing at the displays. He froze when he saw the absolute cutest cookie, shaped like a poodle. It reminded him of his own poodle, Majima, whom Yuuri was eventually able to bring over to America with him once he found an apartment that allowed pets.

Yuuri decided he could beat his anxiety about unhealthy snacks in public for a cookie as cute as that. He pushed open the front door of Stammi Vicino, a small bell ringing. Yuuri was glad to see that the pastry shop was empty. A man with silver hair popped up from behind the display, eyes widening in shock as he blurted, “Oh! It’s you!”

“Sorry?” Yuuri replied automatically, confusion evident on his face. Then he realized what he said and his eyes widened. The words he had resented as a child so casually flung from his lips during what could have been a first meeting. Though, now that he thought about it, the man did look familiar.

“Yeah, that’s me!” the man said unhelpfully.

“Uhh…” Yuuri replied equally unhelpfully.

“I’m ‘Sorry.’”

“Why are you sorry?”

Now the man looks confused, though Yuuri can’t possibly fathom why when the man hasn’t been making sense since Yuuri walked in. Yuuri watched self-consciously as the man’s eyes raked over his appearance, lingering on Yuuri’s wrist and he resisted the urge to make sure his sleeves were pulled down all the way. The man pressed on, though, “I only realized after I got home and I was going to bring it up when I picked up Makkachin but you weren’t there.” When Yuuri’s confusion didn’t dissipate, the man continued to elaborate, “From the veterinary hospital?”

“Oh! You’re Makkachin’s owner?” Yuuri wasn’t proud to admit he was horrible with names. And even more horrible with faces.

Yuuri felt guilty at the way the man’s face dropped, but Yuuri couldn’t help that he couldn’t remember every pet owner that came to the hospital. “You really don’t remember me?” Yuuri helplessly shook his head. The man looked way more devastated than Yuuri thought the situation warranted. “I’m, uh, Viktor? Viktor Nikiforov?”

“Oh! Yeah, that sounds familiar…” Yuuri said awkwardly. He was beginning to decide cute poodle-shaped cookies weren’t worth this. There was a silence and Yuuri wondered if it would be bad to just walk right out. Though if he did that, when Viktor brought Makkachin back next week for her post-surgery check out, it might be a bit weird. Instead, Yuuri apologized again, “Sorry, a lot of people bring in their pets…”

After a moment, Viktor seemed to force a smile to his face, “How can I help you?” false cheer injected into his words.

“I, uh, wanted…” Yuuri came up to the display and pointed at the poodle-shaped cookie, “this one.” Viktor silently grabbed it. “Is it, um, Makkachin?” Yuuri asked, trying to make polite conversation.

“Yeah. I designed them while Makkachin was in surgery…” Viktor explained.

Yuuri reached for his wallet and Viktor waved him off, handing the bag to Yuuri, “On the house, Dr. Katsuki.” Yuuri felt another rush of guilt that Viktor remembered his name when Yuuri couldn’t even remember his face.

Though, the more he looked, the more familiar Viktor was becoming. The man had bags under his eyes, he looked exhausted. Thin. All he could remember was the way the tears had fallen from his eyes out of worry for his dog.

Realizing he hadn’t replied, Yuuri quickly says, “Thank you, but, uh, I’m not a doctor yet.” Viktor’s brow raises in confusion. “I’m still working towards my doctorate. I’m just a pet technician right now.”

“Ah, I thought you looked quite young to be a doctor,” Viktor commented, causing a flush to rise to Yuuri’s cheeks.

Yuuri brought out his wallet, “Are you sure I can’t—“ he was cut off by Viktor shaking his head. “Thank you. The cookies they, uh, look like my poodle too,” he added.

Viktor’s expression seemed to light up, if just a little, at the addition. Life coming into his bright blue eyes. “You have a dog?”

Yuuri smiled, clutching the bag. “Majima is his name. I guess I, uh, rescued him about ten years ago.

“You should bring him!” Viktor blurted and Yuuri gave him yet another confused glance. “That is, if you come here again. Once Makkachin recovers, she’ll be back here with me. I’m sure she’d love to meet Majima!” Yuuri hesitated before nodding. Surely he could stop by on one of their afternoon walks. He’d love to see Makkachin again anyways.

“Okay, I will. Thanks again,” Yuuri said, shaking the bag and more than ready to leave.

“Please come again.” Somehow it didn’t sound like his customer service voice. It was such a strange encounter, it ended up sticking in Yuuri’s head. Viktor seemed so eager to see him again, for some unfathomable reason.

Once Yuuri arrived at his apartment, and after taking a picture to put on his barely-used Instagram, Yuuri tried the poodle-shaped cookie and was absolutely delighted. It was probably the single best sweet he had ever tasted. Yuuri had finished the cookie before he could even think about it, and was disappointed in himself for not savoring it. If he had had doubts about going back to Stammi Vicino, they were completely gone.

 

* * *

 

Not three days later, Yuuri found himself outside the little pastry shop, Majima eagerly pulling on his leash. With much less internal debate than last time, Yuuri pushed open the door of Stammi Vicino. Viktor was behind the counter again, an intense look on his face as he scribbled in a notebook. He looked up at the sound of the bell and Yuuri felt his face grow warm at how Viktor’s expression lit up.

He didn’t look much better than last time, if Yuuri were to be honest. Exhaustion evident in his body, in his eyes, in his movements. “Dr. Katsuki!” he greeted before visibly backtracking. “Oh, not doctor. Uh… Mx. Katsuki?”

Yuuri smiled warmly at the use of the gender-neutral title, it was a nice change. “Just Yuuri is fine.”

“Do you remember my name?” Viktor leaned onto the counter, shooting a look that was somehow both flirtatious and hopeful.

And Yuuri flushed in embarrassment and guilt at the reminder. “Viktor Niko-Nik-Nikfoav?” he winced at his poor pronunciation.

“Close! Nikiforov,” Viktor corrected good naturedly. “Please call me Viktor.” He came around the counter and crouched in front of Yuuri’s dog. “You must be Majima!”

Yuuri blinked in surprise, “You remembered his name?”

“Of course! I might be forgetful at times but I remember the important things!” he winked up at Yuuri and Yuuri felt his heart skip a beat.

“My dog’s name is important?” Yuuri crouched down too, watching as Majima excitedly wagged his tail when Viktor began to pet him.

“Well, you’re important.” The words fell from Viktor’s lips casually, like commenting on the weather. Yuuri froze, giving Viktor a strange look. Perhaps realizing what he said, his fingers stopped their movement. “You, uh, helped save Makkachin. You’re important.” The words sounded weak and strange but Yuuri decided not to push. Standing up, Viktor retreated behind the counter to wash his hands. “What can I get you today?”

Yuuri came up to look at the display. “Hm, what’s your favorite?”

“Mine?”

“Yes. The cookie last time was the best I’d ever had,” Yuuri gushed. “I don’t even know where to begin with the rest here. I want to know what you think is best.”

Viktor reached into the case and pulled out a small sponge-cake-looking pastry. “Here, try this.” Yuuri grabbed the small fork and happily took a bite.

Yuuri’s whole face lit up, “Oh wow!” he exclaimed, eyes bright. Viktor’s expression seemed to mirror Yuuri’s. “This is amazing!” A small blush crawled across Viktor’s face. The pastry had a hint of lemon, mixed with almond. “What is it?”

“Madeleine,” Viktor replied excitedly. He gestured for Yuuri to take a seat at one of the tables.

Yuuri grabbed the plate and did as directed. “French?” Viktor came back around the counter and sat across from Yuuri.

“Oui!” Viktor smiled. “I studied in France for many years.” Yuuri took another bite, almost moaning at how good it tasted. He had some shame, though, and managed to refrain.

“This is seriously great!”

Viktor flushed happily under the praise. There was a moment of silence and Viktor’s expression became more serious. “Do you remember your first words to me?”

Yuuri shrugged, “’Follow me’? or ‘I know a vet’?” Yuuri tried to recall. “Something like that, I’m sure. Why?”

“And my first words?”

That Yuuri remembered, “You said ‘My dog!’ right?” He narrowed his eyes at Viktor, who looked a bit dejected. “Is this… is this about… soulmarks?” he asked hesitantly and Viktor perked up. “Don’t worry, your words didn’t match my mark,” Yuuri assured. There was nothing about dogs on his body, after all.

“R-really?” Viktor asked weakly and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. Viktor seemed so against the idea and even if Yuuri wasn’t looking for his other soulmate, surely the possibility they might have been soulmates shouldn’t be that distressing to Viktor.

“Really,” he said, perhaps a bit too snappily, judging by the flash of hurt on Viktor’s face, though it was quickly schooled into something more neutral. “Sorry…” Yuuri apologized. Of course Viktor would feel uncomfortable about the possibility of being Yuuri’s soulmate. He was probably hoping for someone more exciting, more interesting, and just… more. He shouldn’t have snapped. Yuuri reached down to pat Majima’s head and decided to change the topic. “Do you have any, I don’t know, pastries for dogs?”

Viktor shook his head. “No… but that’s not a bad idea!” he appeared to latch onto the new conversation and Yuuri felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “I’ve made dog treats for Makkachin before,” Viktor glanced down at Majima and scratched behind his ear. “Would you like me to make your something, hm?”

Majima barked happily as Yuuri interjected, “Oh, no! That’s not necessary!”

“Nonsense, it’d be a pleasure.” Yuuri nodded stiffly and finished his own pastry. Somehow, it didn’t taste quite as good as before. But he suspected it had more to do with the conversation than the actual pastry.

“Can I get another? To go? For my roommate,” Yuuri explained as he followed Viktor to the register. After paying, he bid Viktor goodbye.

“Next time you bring Majima, I’ll have something special for him!” Viktor promised.

 

* * *

 

The next time Yuuri saw Viktor, however, was not at Stammi Vicino, but at Celestino’s Animal Hospital. He was bringing Makkachin in for a post-surgery check-up, to make sure the bone was setting properly and she was reacting okay to the medication. He caught Viktor just as he was leaving, having previously been busy in the back and taking care of one of the other pets.

“Ah, Yuuri!” Now that voice Yuuri would recognize anywhere. Yuuri hadn’t been able to get that voice out of his head.

“Hello Viktor,” he replied softly. “How’s Makkachin?”

“She’s doing well,” Viktor patted her head gently. “Everything seems to be healing just fine!”

“That’s great,” Yuuri gave Viktor a small smile.

Viktor was silent for a moment before suddenly shoving his hands into his pocket and pulling out a small package. “I brought you some sweets,” Viktor had a (rather suave, if you were to ask Yuuri) smile.

“You didn’t have to,” Yuuri protested, but didn’t refuse when Viktor pushed the bag into his hand.

“I wanted to,” Viktor countered. At Viktor’s expectant look, Yuuri opened the bag. Inside were an assortment of macaroons. “These are called macaroons,” he said, his tone full of pride and Yuuri decided not to tell Viktor he had already known what they were. He looked so proud of his work and Yuuri decided, _Completely warranted, too_ , as he ate one.

“Wonderful!” he praised, eyes wide. Macaroons were something Yuuri was familiar with but he had no idea they could taste so spectacular. Macaroons were never something Yuuri went out of his way to eat but Viktor’s would be a different story. “How do you do it?”

“They’re baked with love,” Viktor winked again and it was as embarrassing as the first time. “And years and years of study and practice,” he conceded, to which Yuuri snorted out a laugh.

“Thanks, they’re… they’re…” his English vocabulary seemed to fail him. What word could describe just how _good_ this macaroon was? “so delicious!” he finished, a bit lackluster.

“I hope to see you at Stammi Vicino soon, Yuuri!” Viktor said brightly, before excusing himself to take Makkachin home.

Later that night, Yuuri sat on the couch with Majima and Phichit. Majima had his head resting on Yuuri’s leg while Phichit sat with his toes buried under Yuuri’s thigh. “I don’t get it, Phichit,” Yuuri sighed. “He keeps giving me sweets and-and… _flirting_ with me.”

“Seems pretty obvious to me, Yuuri,” Phichit teased without looking up from his phone. “He’s interested.”

“But that doesn’t make sense either. He seemed so… distraught over the idea that we might be soulmates. Our first meeting was… rushed, so neither of us thought about first words,” Yuuri elaborated.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, Phichit. You should have seen how, I don’t know, put off he was.” Yuuri could recall the exact expression. Viktor had seemed so worried that Yuuri couldn’t remember the exact words.

“Yuuri,” Phichit started slowly. “You’re not the best at reading body language,” he finished bluntly.

“Viktor couldn’t be more obvious unless he said his emotions before speaking.”

“Like that alien in Mass Effect?” Phichit recalled from one of their gaming nights. “’Disappointedly: Are you sure you’re not my soulmate?’” Phichit joked, his tone completely emotionless and monotonous.

Yuuri snorted. “More like, ‘With trepidation: Please tell me someone like you isn’t my soulmate.’”

Phichit didn’t laugh, though, “Yuuri…”

“I-it was a joke!” Yuuri quickly interjected, standing up. Majima gave him a dirty looked for waking him up from his nap. “I’m… going to turn in for the night.”

“Yuuri, give him a chance.”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuuri retreated to his room.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri avoided Stammi Vicino for a week and a half before deciding to go back. He had finished the macaroons shortly after getting them and had a craving for something sweet. He resolutely told himself he wasn’t going to check on Viktor. When he pushed open the door, Viktor was sitting at one of the tables, Makkachin was asleep in a dog bed in the corner. Viktor looked even more tired, if possible. Upon hearing the bell, however, Viktor immediately slid a mask of polite happiness across his face. At seeing Yuuri, the masked slipped into something softer, more genuine.

“Yuuri. You’re back.”

“Been busy…” Yuuri explained hesitantly, not a complete lie. “I’m in the mood for something… chocolate. What would you recommend?”

Viktor pushed himself up from the table and led Yuuri to the display case. “Can I interest you in a chocolate éclair?” he said in a ridiculously fake posh accent, playing it up with a bow. Yuuri chuckled lightly and nodded his agreement. “Want a drink? Tea, coffee…?”

“No thanks. But I will, ah, eat here?”

Viktor seemed glad to hear it, bringing the éclair back to the table and they took the seats across from each other. “Uh, are you okay, Viktor?”

Viktor smiled weakly. “Just some troubles sleeping.”

“Sorry to hear that…” Conversation died and Yuuri took a bite of his éclair. Like everything else he had tried thus far, it was delicious. He told Viktor as much and Viktor seemed to perk up, if only a little. “You make all this yourself?”

“Not all at once, I stagger it, but, yeah.”

“No wonder you’re so tired,” the, perhaps, untactful comment slipped out before Yuuri couldn’t think about it.

“Becoming a pâtissier was like a dream come true. Even if it’s a lot of work, I loved it.”

“Loved?”

Viktor breathed in deeply before answering. “I’m not sure right now. It’s been difficult to find inspiration. Lately, though, it’s… been more fun again,” he confessed, looking away from Yuuri. “But there are times it’s also… painful.”

“I think I understand…” Yuuri replied, reaching across the table to pat Viktor’s hand to comfort him. When he went to pull away, Viktor jolted, clutching Yuuri’s wrist. It burned where Viktor touched, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Yuuri didn’t pull away.

He squeezed Viktor’s arm reassuringly. After a little bit, though, Yuuri broke the silence. “I need my hand if I’m to eat the best éclair in the world.”

“You have another hand,” Viktor countered petulantly, but released Yuuri’s hand nonetheless. He finished the éclair, but when Yuuri went for his wallet, Viktor shook his head. “No need. On the house.”

“You’ll spoil me,” Yuuri teased, resolving to find some way to pay Viktor back.

“It’s entirely worth it.” Yuuri expected Viktor to wink again, but it never came. So, Yuuri stood up and was about to say goodbye when Viktor blurted. “Can I have your number?” Yuuri wasn’t sure who looked more surprised at the outburst. Phichit’s words came back to Yuuri and he ended up nodding his okay.

“Can I see your phone?” Viktor almost dropped his phone in his haste to give it to Yuuri. Yuuri input his number swiftly. “Then, uh, text me?”

“I will! Right now!” Yuuri’s phone went off, showing a simple message with a smiley face. Yuuri saved the unknown number and showed Viktor with a smile.

“I’ll talk to you later, then.”

 

* * *

 

Viktor and Yuuri texted frequently. Yuuri often sent pictures of Majima, and, in return, Viktor sent selfies with Makkachin. Yuuri was glad to see that Viktor seemed to be getting more sleep; more color coming into his cheeks, the bags under his eyes fading. Makkachin was recovering well, too. Viktor began making more elaborate and delicious pastries such as: poppyseed rolls and canelé and crème brulee. He always asked Yuuri to taste them first. Even some dog-safe treats especially for Majima. In return, Yuuri ended up getting Makkachin some special dental treats from the animal hospital to keep her teeth healthy.

One night, just after close at Stammi Vicino, Yuuri was finishing off Viktor’s latest creation. “This is amazing! If you keep feeding me all these desserts, I won’t be able to see my toes,” he joked, patting his stomach.

“Just means there’s more of you to adore,” Viktor said softly and Yuuri blushed up to the roots of his hair.

“V-Viktor!” he protested. Changing the topic quickly, Yuuri asked, “What will you do for dinner?” Viktor shrugged and Yuuri took a once over of Viktor. He was so _thin._ It wasn’t thought enviously, but out of concern. Yuuri wondered if it was just genetics or if Viktor wasn’t eating properly. Realizing what he could do to pay Viktor back, Yuuri asked, “Would you like to come back to my place for dinner?”

Viktor smiled so brightly it put the sun to shame. Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat as he recalled the smile Phichit gave him when they first met and Yuuri’s subsequent thought: _Here’s a person I could fall in love with._

_Shit._

Falling in love with someone who wasn’t your soulmate wasn’t a rare occurrence, of course.  But for people who haven’t met their (romantic) soulmates yet, it seemed like a gamble. And as much as he pushed against and protested about “Sorry”, Yuuri still had dreams of a grand soulmate romance.

Besides the awkward first conversation about soulmates, Yuuri and Viktor stayed clear of the topic. Yuuri couldn’t even say with 100% certainty that he knew whether Viktor had his soulmate (soulmates?) already.

_Unlikely, given his reactions before._

Or if he was holding out for his soulmate.

_Possible._

Or or if he was even willing to date someone who wasn’t his soulmate.

_“He’s interested.”_

Instead of voicing any of these thoughts, Yuuri did what he did best: ignored his feelings. “I don’t live far,” Yuuri commented instead, watching as Viktor locked up the shop. “I hope you don’t mind Thai food. I promised my roommate I’d cook him tom yum goong tonight.”

“Never had, I’m sure it’s delicious,” Viktor replied, falling into step with Yuuri. “Mind if I make a call quick?” Yuuri shook his head and Viktor put his phone to his ear, conversing in rapid Russian. Whoever he was talking to was loud, Yuuri could hear them yelling through Viktor’s side of the phone.

Once he hung up, Yuuri cautiously asked, “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just how he is. Son of a family friend, he’s watching Makkachin for me today, since she wasn’t up to coming to work.”

“He sounded pretty angry…”

Viktor laughed, “Nah, that’s just how he expresses concern.”

“Concern? Is Makkachin okay?” Yuuri looked to Viktor in alarm.

“Of course! The concern was… for me. I don’t usually, ah, go out.” Yuuri nodded his understanding.

Yuuri led Viktor up the stairs to his apartment. “It’s not very big but the location’s convenient,” Yuuri said apologetically as he took off his shoes.

Viktor glanced around the living area. The furniture was a mismatched collection from rummage sales and thrift stores. The decorations were even more mismatched. The couch had some tears, in need of obvious repair. But the living space was clean. Which was more than Yuuri could say about his bedroom. Yuuri was sure Phichit’s room was in a similar state, judging by how many cups were missing from the cabinet.

“It’s, uh, very… lived in,” Viktor commented, obviously trying for a compliment and failing.

Yuuri just laughed, “Don’t strain yourself, you can be honest.”

Viktor didn’t hesitate, “It’s extraordinarily clash-y. That’s an achievement all on its own.”

“It’s temporary. None of this is coming with me when I eventually leave.”

“Good.”

“Except the couch.” Viktor gave the couch a pained look and Yuuri chuckled lightly, “I’m kidding. Come, let’s go to the kitchen.” Viktor took a seat at the dining table as Yuuri putted around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients. “I’m not the best cook,” he started modestly, “but I’ve gotten pretty good at this dish.”

“Make it often?”

“Kind of? Twice a semester, usually. It’s Phichit’s favorite, so I make it for him around midterms and after finals.”

“I look forward to it. Need help with anything?”

Yuuri waved him off. “No, it’s okay! You spend all day baking, I can get this.” Yuuri prepped the herbs and stock and began the process of making the soup.

“Where is Phichit?” Viktor asked offhandedly.

“Work, still. He’ll be back in a couple hours.” Honestly, Yuuri was a bit nervous for Viktor and Phichit to meet. He had no doubt they’d get on well and Yuuri could only imagine the ways they’d find to embarrass him. Viktor and Yuuri made idle chitchat as Yuuri cooked. Once it was finished, Yuuri dished up the soup and brought it to the table.

Yuuri had butterflies in his stomach as he watched Viktor take the first bite. Viktor had treated him to so many delicious treats, he could only hope Viktor enjoyed his cooking. “Wow! It’s delicious, Yuuri!”

Yuuri flushed with pleasure at the compliment, but played it off with a, “Even I can’t mess up boiling soup.”

“It was more than that, I watched you make it,” Viktor chided airily. All too soon, they were finished with dinner. Yuuri wasn’t ready for Viktor to leave and Viktor didn’t seem in any hurry to go.

But when there was a lag in conversation, Viktor appeared as if he was ready to excuse himself. Yuuri ended up cutting the attempt off by asking, “Want to watch a movie?” Viktor looked up in surprise, but agreed easily, and so they relocated to the couch. Viktor sat close to Yuuri.

Both too close and not close enough.

And Yuuri felt like a teen in their first romance, worrying about the distance between their thighs. As the film went on, Viktor stayed the same infuriating distance and Yuuri, in an uncharacteristic show of boldness, pushed his leg against Viktor’s. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Viktor turn his head to look at Yuuri and Yuuri kept his eyes determinedly on the screen. He only broke his gaze when he felt Viktor’s hand over his. Yuuri hadn’t realized he had clenched his hand into a fist, but he relaxed as Viktor wound his fingers through his. Yuuri met Viktor’s eyes and they shared a soft smile. Soulmates or not, Yuuri couldn’t deny they shared _something._

_Could it last?_

He thought back to their second meeting in Stammi Vicino. Viktor’s distress.

_Non-soulmate couples work all the time._

Yuuri pushed the negative thoughts away, focusing on the feel of Viktor’s hand in his. This would be a conversation for another time. Viktor’s thumb moved reassuringly and Yuuri noticed he had tensed up.

“Viktor, I—” he was cut off by the sound of the front door opening suddenly. The noise startled Yuuri, causing him to jump in surprise, taking his hand from Viktor’s in the process.

“Yuuri!” Phichit’s voice rung out as he came into the living room. He leaned over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and burying his head into the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

“Bad day at work?” Yuuri questioned, patting Phichit’s arm. A wordless groan was all he got in response. “There’s tom yum goong on the stove.”

“You’re the best, Yuuri!” Phichit straightened up and seemed to notice Viktor for the first time.

Phichit shot Yuuri a knowing look, which Yuuri studiously ignored. “Viktor, this is Phichit. Phichit, Viktor.”

“Nice to meet you!” Phichit chirped. “I’ve heard lots about you!”

“Likewise,” Viktor replied, and though his tone wasn’t cold, it didn’t have the same warmth Yuuri had come to associate with Viktor. Once Phichit left for the kitchen, Viktor commented. “You two seem… close.”

“Phichit’s my, ah, soulmate,” Yuuri confided, smiling gently. “And I couldn’t ask for a better one.” Yuuri glanced over at Viktor and the only word Yuuri could think of to describe Viktor’s expression was “gutted.” Absolutely gutted. And Yuuri realized he hadn’t been exactly clear about the nature of their relationship. “But, uh, we aren’t—“

“Don’t.” Viktor cut him off.

“What? Viktor—“

“I,” he started loudly, before softening his voice. “I’m not sure what kind of game you’re playing, but I never took you to be cruel, Yuuri.”

Yuuri was stunned. He didn’t think anything he had said had been even remotely mean. The unshed tears in Viktor’s eyes told a different story. Without conscious thought, Yuuri reached forward to brush the bangs from Viktor’s face.

“What are you doing?” Viktor’s voice definitely sounded cold now.

“I… don’t understand.”

Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s wrist, pushing it way from his face. “I’m angry, okay?” Viktor stood up from the couch. “I think it’s best I leave.”

Yuuri stood too. “Viktor, wait, let’s talk!”

Viktor took a deep breath and paused at the door. “I can’t right now. I need… to get home. To Makkachin.” Yuuri didn’t stop Viktor as he left, as much as he wanted to, recognizing the need for space.

Yuuri felt more confused than anything. Numbly, he fell back on the couch, going through the conversation in his head. Where had he gone wrong? Phichit’s head peeked out from the kitchen. “Yuuri? What happened?”

“I-I-I don’t know?” Yuuri’s voice came out higher than usual and he swallowed. “Oh gosh, what if I ruined everything? Phichit, I-I thought it could work.” Yuuri felt as if icy hands were gripping his heart, filling his lungs. Breathing felt difficult.

Phichit quickly sat down next to Yuuri, “Deep breath. Okay hold. Release.” Yuuri did as Phichit said until his breathing evened out. “Now. Let’s go step-by-step. What happened?

Yuuri took one more deep breath. “Okay. Um. After you arrived, he seemed… different.”

“Me?” Yuuri nodded. “Different how?”

“Less warm? He, uh, said that we looked close. I told him we’re soulmates.”

“He didn’t know?” Phichit seemed surprised.

Yuuri shrugged, “It never came up? Soulmates seemed like a, you know, touchy subject.”

“You _did_ say we aren’t together, right?”

“I-I was going to! But he cut me off.” Yuuri wrapped an arm around his middle. “He called me ‘cruel.’” Yuuri had been called many things in his life, but never cruel.

“Sounds like you really hurt him. Intentionally or not.”

Yuuri swallowed. “He said… he thought I was…’What kind of game are you playing?’ he said,” Yuuri closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “I would _never_ play with someone’s feelings.”

“ _I_ know that, Yuuri. You don’t need to convince me.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Phichit. What if he never does again?”

“Give him space tonight, Yuuri. See if he wants to talk tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay… you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?” Phichit pulled Yuuri into a hug and they stayed that way for a long time that night.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri didn’t want to show up at Stammi Vicino unannounced. Even if what happened had hurt Yuuri too, he realized what he had done, whatever that may be, really hurt Viktor. Viktor had said he needed space and Yuuri wanted to respect that.

So, instead, he sent a text.

**(10:01) Can I come by today? Please. I want to talk**

Viktor took a long time to reply. Longer than he ever had before and when he finally did, it was without his customary emoticons and flare.

 **(2:37)** **Fine.**

Yuuri was out the door in seconds. He considered brining Majima but worried that might be cheating somehow. Yuuri ran to Stammi Vicino, pushing open the door with his momentum and breathing heavily. A woman in the story gave him a dirty look before finishing her purchase. Yuuri paid her no mind.

Yuuri had practiced in his mind what he was going to say, but in the face of Viktor all these plans fell away. “We’re platonic!” he blurted. “Me and Phichit. We’re not together.” The bell above the door rang, signaling the woman’s departure.

“So?” Viktor’s face betrayed nothing. Completely blank. It unnerved Yuuri.

“So?” Yuuri repeated helplessly.

“So what?”

“So…” Yuuri felt lost. “So, that’s not why you’re… angry?”

“Try again.”

“Because I didn’t mention it sooner?” Yuuri questioned. When Viktor didn’t say anything, Yuuri felt himself grow frustrated. “I can’t understand if you don’t tell me,” he pleaded.

“’I couldn’t ask for a better’ soulmate,” Viktor replied and it shocked Yuuri at how bitter Viktor sounded.

“ _That’s_ why you’re upset? I… I’m not sorry Phichit’s my soulmate,” Yuuri replied firmly, brow furrowing in confusion. His tone softened as he added, “Just… just because we’re not, you know, soulmates doesn’t mean…” Yuuri trailed off, because those words were the first to get a reaction from Viktor. A flash of hurt. “Viktor, I… like you. I don’t care who my soulmate is, we can try. Can’t we?”

“I don’t understand,” Viktor said, emotion finally _finally_ seeping into Viktor’s words. He sounded lost. “You say you like me but deny our soulmarks in the same breath. Why are you so… so… _adamant_ about us not being soulmates?” Now that was anger.

“Because we aren’t!” Yuuri retorted, equally sharp.

“I saw your mark, okay? I know!”

“What?”

“You had your sleeves pushed up, at the vet when we met. I know.” Yuuri felt as if they were having two separate conversations. Suddenly Viktor was tugging his shirt up and across his ribcage it said in plain writing, “I’m a vet.” “You think I wouldn’t remember meeting my soulmate?” Viktor jerked his shirt back down. “Twenty-eight years I waited to hear these words. A-and you just act like… like…”

“Viktor,” Yuuri pulled up his sleeve, looking at the “sorry” boldly sitting on his wrist. “You said ‘my dog’ first.”

“No!” Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s wrist, gently, reverently, at odds with his firm tone. “This was my first word to you…”

“It’s not possible. We… we can’t be…” Yuuri looked back at his wrist, trying to recall their first meeting all that time ago.

“Do you honestly not remember?” Viktor asked, more softly this time.

“I just… remember Makkachin,” Yuuri closed his eyes, wracking his brain.

“Why is it you only ever remember my dog?” Viktor laughed humorlessly, a sarcastic huff of air. That’s when it came to Yuuri. The collision, a gasped out, “Sorry!” and Yuuri’s eyes popped open. The idea of him and Viktor being soulmates had seem so farfetched, the idea that “Sorry” could have been anyone interesting and exciting so impossible in his head that Yuuri had been _sure_ about Viktor’s first words.

“ _You’re_ ‘Sorry,’” Yuuri gasped out, looking from his wrist to Viktor. Realizing how that could be taken, Yuuri quickly added, “No, I mean, you’re my soulmate. Why… didn’t you say anything?”

“I did!” Viktor dropped Yuuri’s wrist. “When you came here the first time, I told you! Y-you didn’t remember me,” Viktor frowned. Yuuri opened his mouth to protest and Viktor spoke up before had the chance, “And! The second time. It was, like, I don’t know, you were… teasing me? How could you forget our first words, you know? When I had been waiting my whole life to hear them. You seemed… frustrated when I pushed the topic…” Viktor confessed.

Suddenly, so many of their past conversation made much more sense. Yuuri felt an intense rush of guilt at the hurt he must have caused to Viktor. “What did you even think of me…?” he ventured to ask, wondering how he must have seemed in Viktor’s eyes.

_No wonder he called me cruel._

“I thought you just, I guess, wanted to get to know each other without the pressure of… soulmarks? I was willing to pretend if you were, if that’s what you wanted.” Viktor swallowed audibly. “But when you said that you couldn’t hope for a better soulmate than Phichit… it felt like an… like a stab at me.”

Yuuri wondered if his expression looked as distressed as he felt. “Oh Viktor, I am so sorry!” Yuuri held out his hands and was relieved when Viktor took them. “I… had no idea.”

Wryly, Viktor replied, “I realize that now…”

“It’s just… I had given up on finding this,” Yuuri shook his hand with his soulmark, “soulmate. I figured, if I ever met them, then that’d be that. And… I started falling for you and I knew it didn’t matter if we weren’t soulmates. But… you’re him.”

“I’m him,” Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hands.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never… I would have never…”

Viktor shook his head. “I really made a lot of assumptions, huh?”

Yuuri pulled a hand from Viktor’s grasp, placing it where he remembered seeing Viktor’s mark. “I can’t believe it.”

Viktor pulled Yuuri’s wrist gently, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s mark and Yuuri felt his face grow warm at the intimacy of it. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life.”

Viktor released Yuuri’s hand and instead of letting it fall, Yuuri caressed Viktor’s cheek. “Kiss me please?”

Viktor closed the space between them, pulling Yuuri close. “Nothing I want more.” Viktor pressed his lips to Yuuri’s and Yuuri couldn’t help the large smile that bloomed on his face. Viktor’s lips were soft against his, his hold tender. Yuuri felt as if his heart would burst from the pure happiness he felt.

It was definitely the best kiss of his life.

Maybe meeting his soulmate hadn’t been the dramatic, romantic fairytale he had dreamed about, but it was their story. It was as unique as the marks on their bodies. And, despite the difficulties and misunderstandings along the way, Yuuri wouldn’t wish it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were wondering about Yuuri's "go-to phrase" it's from Soseki Natsume's work. Correct me if I misunderstood something but I believe he taught to his students that to say "the moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" is the proper way to say "I love you."  
> Thank you for reading! I was very excited to write this fic!! I was toying with the idea of doing a Viktor POV version of this fic, so we can get more of Viktor's thoughts and backstory, if anyone would be interested in that?  
> I'm always taking requests on [My Tumblr](http://brinthehufflepuff.tumblr.com)!


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